I Can't Just Forget
by RoseDare
Summary: Bella is one of the most powerful bakers in the country. She is talented, smart, and stronger than any woman Edward has ever met. They are opposites. Her tough exterior is letting her hide from his seeking eyes, but for how long? Will Edward be able to see the passionate and amazing woman underneath? Will Bella let the man slowly becoming her lifeline see the truth of her heart?
1. Prologue--Distractions

**Prologue:**

My name is Bella Swan, and I hate sharing. That should be on my license plate, my ID card, and on any other piece of paper that could possibly be used to define me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not some bitch who hates compromising and must always have things her way. No. I'm more what I like to call…protective.

That's why I hate reporters. They swarm, and consume, and stick their little greasy fingers into what I deem, none of their damn business.

Early on in my career, I used to try to answer their questions. Oh yeah. I was the poster child for a good interview. But boy did that come back and bite me in the ass. Now, I'm older -well not by a lot…only twenty two- and a lot meaner.

"Come on Swan, just give me something!" "Hey, come on sweetie, if you don't give me something to run, I'll have to make something up!"

Like they didn't do that already.

I rolled up the window completely to drown out their shouts, and after a few minutes of blasting the radio, I finally couldn't hear them. A few cars swerved off the lot with me, and followed me into the street.

I waited for an opening in the right lane, and with a small gap, I pushed my way in, leaving about ten different fellow New Yorkers screaming and cussing. I grinned, and leaned back into my seat.

This is why I lived here. Because on the streets of Manhattan, no one gave a damn that I was the sole owner of the largest bakery in the state. Or that I was a personal friend and cook for some of the top celebrities in the world. You think I'm kidding? Just the other day I made a bear claw for the Pope when he came to the city. Turns out, he's got a bit of a thing for chocolate, who knew with that big white robe?

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, I'm tired. And I need some sort of distraction.

I was on my way to Rose's house with the distinct purpose of stealing a few glorious hours of alone time.

As a top channel six reporter with the smile of an angel, and the brains to kick that angel out of town, she was down in the Bronx doing a full exposé on how the welfare program was really hurting more than helping. She had left me the keys to her high-rise pent house so that I could feed her fish.

Weird right? Who had fish past the nine-year-old gold fish phase?

I pulled onto a back street, and flicked my turn signal on to merge.

Rose was a good friend. She was four years older, but was quite the personality. I've never met anyone like her. She had this way of looking at a situation, breaking it down to its bones, and showing them back to you in a way that made things seem so much more simple. That was her gift. Elbow deep in ink, and head buried in the facts.

Me, my fingers were always deep in flour. Or chocolate. Or butter. Or sugar. Or anything that weight watchers deemed demonizing.

That's what I loved. Getting down and dirty with the essentials, and making something that would make you keel over in ecstasy in a single bite.

This big business, "Swan's Best", wasn't even really mine. Sure I owned it, sure I ran it, and sure I signed the paychecks, but I didn't build it. I didn't create it. That was my Dad.

Barely out of High School, passing by the skin of his teeth, he set out as one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the country.

He was the one who built the empire I lived in. Not me. His passion and hard work got this.

In fact, truth be told, I didn't give a damn about the business side of things. Sure, it was Dad's baby so I wanted it to survive and grow, but sometimes I wanted to cut the cord. Live my own dream.

I made a left turn into the front of the complex, and after giving the valet a sizeable tip, I climbed the stairs and opened the door to the lobby.

The air was plush, and the metaphor that seemed to fit best for the furniture was 'made of money'. I half expected to be able to cut the sofa's open and find fifty dollar bills cushioning the silicone rears of the privileged.

"Ah Miss. Swan. And how are you today?"

I paused mid step, and smiled at Ronald, the front desk receptionist.

I always found it odd that high class apartment buildings always seemed to be like hotels.

"Just fine Ron. How's the kids?"

Ron, all red hair and pink cheeks chuckled into his large neck.

"As well as they can be. But loving the motorbikes you sent."

I had met both of his kid's at a fundraiser for breast cancer a while back at the Four Seasons. I guess I truly respected the man in his efforts of two jobs to pay the bills.

The bikes? Well they were for Christmas. I had had my connections at the hotel look up his address and send them the gifts.

What was it to me anyway? It wasn't like I couldn't afford it.

"They hurt themselves yet?"

Ronald laughed loudly, and scratched the back of his neck.

"Not yet. But I suspect it's just a matter of time. Boys will be boys."

"And fathers will be fathers. Let them get over ten Ron."

He blushed, and gestured towards the elevator. "Just go up Miss. Swan, before I take your advice."

I tipped an invisible hat, and made my way towards the gleaming ivory doors. They smoothly glided open and with a courtesy smile at the man inside, I asked for the penthouse.

During the long rise up, I thought about what Rose had said. She had told me that I was a soft teddy bear on the inside, beneath a hard shell.

I didn't see it. Sure, I've been to a few charities in my day, and yeah I may have helped Ron out with a loan on his house and gave his boys a bike or two, but Christ sake, I've known the man for six years. It's not like he's a stranger or anything. For as long as I've been visiting Rose, he'd been there. Everyday, with a smile on his face.

I appreciated that kind of spirit.

The doors dinged open, and after a small wave, swiped the card key, and was allowed access to the apartment.

When Rose had asked me to take care of her beloved fish, I had laughed and asked why she didn't have Ron do it. She had just gave me those big blue eyes, and pouty lip and I caved. Besides, it was only for a month, and I was three weeks in.

But I had taken the job with a clause attached. I got to hide here.

So that's what I was going to do.

I pulled off my Yankee cap, and shrugged out of my jacket. I tossed them both onto the counter, and the stark difference of the denim against the glossy marble made me chuckle.

I differed from Rose in almost every way. She was glamorous without trying. Wearing only the best and most expensive. Me? I wore the same thing most everyday. Jeans, a shirt emblazoned with some sort of location, and a cap and jacket.

I wasn't much for dressing up.

In fact, the brand new converses on my feet were the most expensive thing in my wardrobe. Which drove Rose mad.

"You've got more money than God and you dress like a teenage boy."

I had responded by sticking out my tongue at her.

I contemplated catching some Z's, but made a swift turn towards the kitchen. I sifted through her fridge and was disappointed at the lack of ingredients I saw inside. My own fault for not keeping it stocked I supposed. I then turned my attention towards the pantry.

Much better.

I rubbed my hands together.

I liked making things for me. No pressure. No price tag.

Just good old fashioned chocolate.


	2. Chapter One--What?

**_Authors Note:_**

_So, this chapter is really small. But I wanted to keep this one simple. I originally had this chapter over seven thousand words (YEESH!), but I cut it down. I wanted to really show that Bella doesnt really have a plan. She just does the job. Love you. Please Review:) Updates soon. Promise!_

* * *

**Chapter One:**

"I was thinking maybe a tangerine, or maybe a little floral accent. Maybe rose petals would be a nice contrast to the acidity of the-"

"Jasper. Down."

Jasper, my second in command-as I liked to call it, was babbling around me as I took a bite of the new trial recipe cupcakes. The one in my hand now was a very light blood orange cake, with a butter cream frosting.

"I just thought maybe you'd find the cake a little too dense to offset-"

"You were wrong. This is awesome. Push this into next week's delivery system."

Jasper flitted around me and bit his lip. "Are you sure? I mean this is all my thing. It could be-"

I cut him off short.

"Jasper. Would you put your name on this?

He paused, and with a little bit of a smile answered, "Yeah."

"Then it's good enough for me. I don't know why you do this to yourself. 96 percent of what you send me I check off."

Jasper was sort of my worry stone. You know how people carry around little luck trinkets with them, or little de-stressers? He was mine. He did all the worrying for me.

We'd known each other for years. I found him on a little bakery down in Brooklyn, and seeing the raw talent he had for mixing flavors, I hired him. He had been reluctant to leave, but couldn't resist the double pay and huge state of the art kitchens 'Swans' offered him.

I put the cake down and moved to the next. This one was labeled "Deep Mocha Angel food, with Cherry Frosting, Dusted with a de-hydrated Apple Powder."

"Sugar content?"

"About 54 percent."

"Dairy?"

"Yes'm."

I picked it up and examined the consistency of the frosting.

With a small bite, I dug in and let the flavors dance over my tongue. The mocha cake was to die for. I mean really. It was airy and delicate, and the cherry topping was very heavy to balance.

"How much apple powder?"

"I used about 1/8 teaspoon."

"Did you mix it?"

"No, I felt the flavor would be too tropical- if that makes sense- mixed. Do you want me to change the-"

"Nope. I was just asking. Make a note to send these out via web ad, possibly as the sampler."

"Consider it done. Do you want it to be a self assembly?"

I bit my lip. One of the new features on the site, was a one day delivery cake, no charge to your home. It was a mini-sized 'free-bie', and changed every month. The self assembly idea was a new concept introduced by one of the marketing advisors.

"Let's wait on that. Send a memo to Hansen that I want to re-discuss the self assembly. I think it takes away something."

I moved to the last cupcake on the counter. Its label read "Soft Honeydew Dream Cake, with Maple frosting. OP to C: Drizzled with White Whocolate Ganache."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Maple?"

Jasper nodded and tucked a blonde curl out of the way. "Yes. I thought it might give a breakfast feel."

"Interesting." I took a bite, and was surprised at how homey it was. "It's good. Sugar?"

"66 percent."

I hummed to myself. "Cut the sugar to 46."

"Got it."

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Groaning, I put down the cake and reached towards my thigh.

"Bella."

"Hey Bells."

"Jake." I smiled into the receiver.

I heard Jasper move behind me, and start to usher in the cleaning staff to clear off the leftovers.

"How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while."

I scrunched my eyes, and scratched my head. How long had it been since I last called?

"It hasn't been that long right? Three days max?"

"Try a week closing on two."

I blew out a breath. Jasper popped around and held up the clipboard for me to sign off on a few memos.

"Jesus Jake. I'm sorry. Things have been so crazy, I just haven't had any time off lately."

"Make time off. You're the boss."

I rolled my eyes and signed the paper. Jasper nodded in thanks and went to the fax machine down the hall.

"Exactly. I'm the boss. I make decisions. I have to call the shots or the whole thing goes to hell."

"You saying Boyardee can't handle it without you?"

I laughed at his stupid nickname for Jasper.

"Doesn't matter. It's my job. Not his."

"Whatever. I'll bet you don't even remember what next Sunday is."

I hesitated and he barked accusingly.

"Billy's Birthday? Seriously Bells."

Oh crap on a cracker. Was that so soon?

After my Dad passed Billy had found it difficult to stay in Forks where they both grew up, and moved to Montana. It was a far from the reservation, and everything familiar, but he had been determined. Fresh start and all that I guess.

"I didn't forget." I lied, "I just was distracted."

"Yeah. Uh huh. But you're coming down here then right?"

"Oh jeez. I've got so much on my plate, and-"

"Just take the train Bells. No airplanes needed."

"It's not just that. I've got a business to run. This was Char-"

"And Charlie would want you to come home. Christ Bella, Billy's Birthday is two weeks before Christmas. Just take the month off."

"A whole month?!"

Jasper entered the room, and jumped a little at my screech.

"Yes. It'll make up for, jeez I don't know, Thanksgiving, my birthday, Renee's-"

"Will she be there?"

"Yes."

"Jake, I…"

"Bells. She's your Mom."

My head was starting to pound.

"I'm at work. I'll call you tonight."

"No. I'll call you tonight. That's the only way for sure it'll happen."

"It'll happen!"

"See ya." The phone clicked, and I looked up at Jasper.

"Please tell me that he's being ridiculous."

Jasper pushed off the wall he had been leaning on and rubbed the back of his pale neck. "I could handle things for a while. I mean, I'd have to have complete access to you 24/7 over phone or email otherwise I might suffer a small aneurism…but I think this would be good for you."

I just stared.

"You agree with Jacob?"

He quickly shook his had. "No. I don't believe he had a right to force travel on you, when it's only been a few months. That much I distinctly disagree on. This should be up to you."

I squinted at him.

"What happened to worried little Jasper? I need Bella Jasper? I like that Jasper. I always know what that Jasper is going to do next."

He looked to the ground. "I just think you need some time."

I paused. What was he saying? That I couldn't handle myself here in charge? That in the few months I've been top dog, I was failing?

"Whatever it is your thinking, no." He cut in. "I respect and admire what you've done here. But Bella. You never gave yourself time to rest. To process. Maybe this will be good for you. And I'll be neurotic, and scared without you, but that's what I do."

I noticed we were alone now. The cleaning staff was gone, and I felt surrounded with no one there.

"You don't even have to stay with them. I've got some family down near Billy, they own a big horse ranch. You could stay there."

"Wait. How do you know-"

"I snooped through your address book online. Come on Bells. Just do it. You've got me, Rose, who can keep the Press at bay, and an entire Staff that can help."

How did this happen? I was tasting new samples four seconds ago and now I was being bombarded with this sentimental crap and vacation nonsense.

But horses. Damn Jasper.

They were the one thing I loved equally to cooking. And damn if he just forgot to mention that little Ranch tidbit for ages.

Shaking my head clear I held up my hand. "No. I'm done talking about it."

I shrugged on my Jacket, and pushed on my aviators.

"Don't." I warned, when Jasper made a move to speak. "I get it. You're concerned. You're all so damn concerned. Well I'm fine. Okay? I'm fine."

I pushed past him, and made my way through the hallways, toward the valet.

I knew I was being ridiculous. I knew that they were all right. I just was too stubborn to let 'Swans' be without my direct control for a whole month.

In a small part of my brain, I was laughing at myself. If anyone else around me acted how I was acting at that moment, I'd tell them to get off the estrogen wagon and come back to sanity land.

But it wasn't somebody else. It was me, and me was bull-headed.

I mean maybe if they had been reasonable. A week…maybe. But a month? Ridiculous right?

"You're motorcycle ma'am."

"Thanks Jay. Forward all my calls to Jasper. If Jasper has any questions, tell him to text me."

He nodded. "I'll send word to your secretary."

I paused. "Oh crap. Sorry. Long day…"

He just laughed and waved it off. "No worries. Have a nice day."

"Thanks. Ditto."

I hopped on my bike, the one Jake had rebuilt from scraps, and sped down into the street.

I felt my phone buzz again in my pocket, and I almost pulled over to answer it. How pathetic is that? I ignored the vibrations, and sped up the engine towards home.

Behind me, as usual, I saw the flicker of camera's and the shouting of questions.

I didn't really have a plan. I stormed out, with a female's natural dramatic flair but little ideas of where to go. I could go home…I had spent a full day at the office…

No.

Sitting at home, just watching another re-run wasn't going to help me relieve some of the build up in my shoulders.

The dimming light was making the New York streets hazy. I could almost taste the long night ahead of me.

I sped past a man screaming at a women for past due rent, and flew right in between two taxi's arguing with each other in the middle of the lanes.

It seemed conflict was everywhere.


End file.
